The Road Not Taken
by K.Holtzman
Summary: Where do you go? Where do you go when the world crashes down around your ears? Where do you run? Most people, they run home. But what if thats the place you ran from first? He has nowhere else to go so home it is. He just prays they don't kill him for leaving in the first place. Returning home and bringing a shitstorm with him. How will SAMCRO deal with that? HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING IN THIS FANFIC BELONGS TO KURT SUTTER AND ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH SONS OF ANARCHY! HUSKY IS MY OC AND ONLY HE AND THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE BELONGS TO ME. EVERYTHING ELSE-CHARACTERS AND IDEA IS KURT'S THE MASTER! **_

_**PLEASE DON'T SUE ME, I LOVE YOU KURT SERIOUSLY-DON'T SUE. (totally forgot the disclaimer first time around lol)  
**_

_**Okay boys and girls listen up! **_

_**This is my first fanfic so we'll see how it goes. This is chapter one. Its a bit of a slow start but like I said in the summary Husky brings a shitstorm with him, so don't worry it's coming.**_

_**Another thing I'd like to say is thanks to Bekala, you're part of the reason this thing even made it here. So thanks.**_

_**And I checked for grammar and spelling but I'll point out there's still some mistakes. If they bother you alot you're welcome to tell me and I'll try my best to fix it.**_

_**Alright I'm gonna shut up now, but you'll see me again at the end. **_

_**Happy reading!**_

**Chapter 1: Coming Home**

He was back in his own country, it had been so long but he was finally back.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't in his own country; he hadn't been there in 18 years. No, he wasn't there, but he was home. It had been 10 years since he was last here.

Ten years….

He stepped out of the SUV, the cold air hitting him in the face like a ton of bricks. This was California, it shouldn't be this cold.

He nodded to the driver, letting him know it was okay to leave. However, the black behemoth didn't pull out of the parking lot, it just sat there. The driver looking at him curiously, probably wondering why he didn't want to clean himself up before he got home. Instead, he nodded, shifted the gears and drove off into the night.

Husky stood there outside the clubhouse, his feet just froze there, a great part of him just wanted to take off and leave, to run, hell his entire being wanted to!

But he couldn't, no this was _his _home, _his_ family, all of it was _his_.

He couldn't run away…..not anymore.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his shaky hands, he reached for the doorknob, only then did he realize how dirty they were, covered in foreign filth. Maybe he should have taken a shower; at first, it had never crossed his mind. Once he boarded that plane back to the US, the only thing he could focus on was getting home, and facing whatever lay in wait for him. He road the plane still marked from the war, still wearing his sweat-soaked uniform, the dried blood still on his face. And he allowed himself to be driven home without bothering to cleanup. He wondered if they would even recognize him, or had the war aged him beyond recognition? Or would he terrify them, looking so battle worn.

It didn't matter though, he was here now, they were his family, they'd take him back, and at least he hoped so.

He stepped through the doorway, taking just enough steps to put himself right in the middle, just enough so everyone in the room could see him, no matter who they were "servicing" at the moment.

As soon as he had opened the door though all eyes were on him. It was like a 50-pound weight had just landed on him for every pair of eyes. His backpack suddenly felt like a damn anvil. The surprise on his brothers' faces hit him like knives, each one twisting in his gut. He couldn't tell if they were happy or mad just surprised, their mouths hanging open. The whores and croweaters were shooed away; they exited through the door behind him glaring at him as they passed for ruining their fun.

He could see Bobby standing to his left, a cue stick in one hand and a beer hanging loosely from the other. Chibs, the Scotsman, stood near the bar, leaning on it, he had already dropped his whiskey, it laid on the floor beneath him, the brown liquid oozing out the bottle.

His other brothers were there too. Jax, Tig, Clay, Piney and Opie all standing some distance away, all not sure what to do but Clay, he glared, his blue eyes grey, burning holes in him. Ad Husky knew damn well why. The silence was momentarily broken though, as _she _entered the room, a tray full of coffee cups, plates, and various alcohols. All clattering to the floor with a loud shattering noise as pieces of glass flew in all directions. Her whole body shook and tears were hanging her eyes, but there was also anger, a deep-seated anger that had been boiling inside her and was now bubbling over.

Husky looked at Gemma, she was beautiful and strong as ever, the years had been kind to her. But he couldn't look her in the eyes, not after what he had done to her, the pain he caused her.

She strutted forward to him, quickly, every step with purpose. She stopped in front of him, her hands caressing hid face, she traced the scar on the side of his face so gently, but it sent sparks across his skin. Her fingers then moved to the wound above his eye, close to the hairline, the fresh wound that was still open and crusted with blood. Her mouth was open a bit like she still couldn't believe he was there, even though she could touch him and feel the warmth of his skin. He knew he had to say something, he had a hundred things to say, all running through his head, crashing into each other he couldn't form words. He did have one word though.

"Mom." No sooner had it left his mouth, did his head jerk to the side with a smack of skin on skin, and a vibrant red handprint on his face. He turned back to her, his eyes cold but not because of her or even the stinging slap she just gave him. His eyes had just been dead for a long time.

Gemma looked about ready to cry, but she wouldn't, not here in front of the rest of the club. She dragged him into an embrace making his backpack slip off his shoulders before squeezing him so tight he could barely breathe. Husky felt pain shooting up his spine and across his chest for he was still sore from his injuries. But there was no way he was going to push her away, she needed this.

And that she did, Gemma hugged her son tightly, holding him close, believing that if she held on long enough it would sink in that he was really here and he would never leave her again. "My boy." She muttered into his chest as they stood embracing each other, her head lying against his chest and his tilted on her shoulder.

It was like those two words were a cue to the rest of the group or something. For in minutes they were swarming around him, hugging him and patting him on the back. All muttering things along the lines of "I'm so glad you're back!" and "We all missed you brother." words of endearment coming from everyone's mouth. Even Clay who had glared so violently at him earlier, now only had eyes full of love for his son. He was still mad and he would be for a while, but Husky didn't blame him. The way he had left, had upset Gemma beyond all belief, seeing his love hurt like so probably killed Clay.

Eventually the greetings died away, and everyone stood around tears glistening around there eyes but not falling down their face. Ha, big bad bikers brought to tears over a brother coming home.

"Come on, lets get you cleaned up." Gemma whispered as she took her sons hand and led him to one of the dorms with a shower at the back of the clubhouse. Walking down the hall, Husky could here shouts of joy behind him, and his brothers yelling in glee as they prepared for a long of night of whores, drinks, and partying. All in celebration of Husky coming home.

His mother set about straightening up the room, as he drifted into the bathroom, stripping down and climbing into the shower. He turned the knobs; a feeling of instant security filling him as the water came crashing down on his face. Something about a nice shower just made him feel safe. He hissed a bit as the scalding water poured over him and into his open wounds, he thought he could hear his skin sizzle when the water pounded down onto the gash in his forehead. He could feel the dirt away, the scent of death falling away and circling the drain below. It took him awhile to realize the water was so hot it burned his skin; he quickly shut it off, and jumped out eager to get some cool air on his fiery flesh.

He walked the bathroom, a towel around his waist, easily finding the clothes laid out on the bed for him. Gemma watched as he changed, her eyes focused on the rippling of his muscles as he pulled on underwear and then his pants. But she couldn't take her eyes off his skin, how mutilated it was. The tears and puncture wounds that were along his side. She could only imagine the horror and pain he had to have suffered overseas.

She shuffled through the drawers for a few minutes coming up with a first-aid kit. She sat down on the bed, motioning for her son to sit beside her. He did the silence between them tense and suffocating. She pulled out the anti-septic wipes and began to clean he gash on his head, non too gently. Husky hissed at the burning sensation.

But Gemma continued without letting up, she then applied butterfly bandages to hold the wound closed, saying something about having Chibs stitch it up later.

She then proceeded to clean the shrapnel wounds that littered his side, this time using hydrogen peroxide. He hissed as the liquid seeped into the wounds, and then grunted as Gemma began to wrap his abdomen in bandages.

"Consider it a bit of payback." She said. A small, vindictive smile on her face. But tears were filling her eyes now. "You left without a word, and then you stopped writing or even calling. You have no idea what that did to us, to your brothers, to me." Before he could even say anything, she went on "Why?"

It was a simple question, yeah. But there was no simple answer. He had run away, as far as he could. But he had kept in touch until one morning he just stopped. "You just wake up on day and decide to cut ties with your family?"

"Mom, I couldn't say anything. You know how it was. We were in deep, I couldn't risk-" He didn't even flinch this time when she slapped him. How could he? He deserved it.

"Don't give me that classified bullshit!" His mom cried, the tears really flowing now. "You were always in deep, always at risk! But you always, always kept in touch." She was right, she always was. It was true, it was a pathetic lie, he had enough connections into the military, and he managed to get letters and the occasional phone call back home. He did just one day wake up and decide to cut off all ties with his family.

He had reasons, damn good reasons they seemed at the time! But now they just paled in comparison with the pain he caused his mother. He fucked up, and bad. He just hoped she would forgive him.

He embraced her, pulling her tightly to his chest, letting her sob against him. He lay back bringing her with him; she needed someone to hold her. No, she needed him to hold her. It was his entire fault anyway.

So that's what he did, he held her shaky form, his body suddenly feeling heavy. And his eyelids soon closed, he couldn't stop himself from falling asleep. He hadn't slept like this in a long time, he let darkness consume him as he thought about he finally had it all back. His mom, brothers, his family and the club. He had run away so long ago from SAMCRO and all they had to offer.

And after all, he experienced since then, and now seeing the damage his absence caused…

He couldn't think as to why he ever left.

_**Okay so what did you think? **_

_**First off thanks for taking the time to read it, it means alot.**_

_**Secondly**__** I've got chapter two already written up, not sure when'll post it so I'm not gonna give you guys some updating schedule to go by. Just read it when you got the time that's all I ask.**_

_**Next I'd like to say reviews are extremely welcome. And I want to hear everything you got to say so don't be afraid to be honest any reviews that I get will be posted regaurdless of content.**_

_**But I do know some people don't feel comfortable about posting reviews sometimes so here is my solution.**_

_**KHoltzman13 gmail . com(sorry I have to type it like that)**_

_**That's my email its an account I set up for this specifically so those of you who have guest accounts and can't PM you can use this or if you just don't feel comfortable posting a review use this. Its priority mail, so everything in this mailbox is automatically read as soon as I get it and you'll get a response once I think of one, type it, and hit the send button. tats the best I can do. And if you don't want to use your real email to email me, set up a phony account. Simple as that.**_

_**Anyway you can use the email or review part on fanfiction, to send reviews, suggestions, questions, thoughts, requests, hate mail, love mail, praise, criticism. Whatever! I read it all, and I accept your feelings. My story can't make everyone happy but I sure as hell can try if you guys point the way. **_

_**I've talked to much already, so there you go. If you guys like this please spread the word around to your friends if not, well then don't.**_

_**Love it if you review! :D**_

_**Stay Frosty.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING IN THIS FANFIC BELONGS TO KURT SUTTER AND ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH SONS OF ANARCHY! HUSKY IS MY OC AND ONLY HE AND THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE BELONGS TO ME. EVERYTHING ELSE-CHARACTERS AND IDEA IS KURT'S THE MASTER! **_

_**PLEASE DON'T SUE ME, I LOVE YOU KURT SERIOUSLY-DON'T SUE. (totally forgot the disclaimer first time around lol)**_

_**So here's chapter 2, a bit shorter than chapter 1 but whatever. Like to thank everyone who read the first chapter 88 views and 79 visitors. Impressive! You guys are awesome. **_

_**So this chapter is dedicated to Gerlock, you're awesome, nice review btw.**_

_**I figure from now on I might clue you guys in to how the chapters come about. This entire chapter was written to the tunes of "Where were you" by Alan Jackson, "Have you Forgotten?" by Darryl Worley and "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" by Toby Keith-beautiful lyrics and inspiring songs. **_

_**Happy reading!**_

**Chapter 2: Talks at Home part 1**

His eyes fluttered open, and his muscles automatically tensed. For a second he was back in Afghanistan, alone, without his comrades, falling asleep unguarded behind enemy lines. He noticed how his arms were, like they had been holding someone, someone who was no longer there. _Gemma…._ The thought entered his head like a speeding bullet. The fact that she wasn't there made him think she had never been, that he wasn't really home, that he had imagined the whole thing. But one look around the room, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight, he could tell he was in the clubhouse. He really was lying on an actual bed, not some hay in a godforsaken desert.

His hand slid down to the sheets, the warmth radiating from them only confirmed it was real, and Gemma had only recently left. That was good. It meant that she finally accepted he was home, that he really was there. That she had completed her job as a mother for the day by making sure her boy was safe in her arms. Now she had to go and make sure the others were okay, that Clay was okay. His leaving had hurt everyone, her the most but definitely Clay as well. Her leaving was good; it meant she felt secure that he was staying and that she wanted him to sleep, to slip out like that unnoticed leaving him to his dreams. Though he had no dreams to speak of, and surely that was better than having dreams….or rather the nightmares that he should have had.

He was wide-awake now, relaxed but still couldn't completely eradicate the feeling of alarm. He

was home but it would take awhile for him to stop being on alert constantly.

He sat up, sighing heavily with the motion, letting all the pain that moved through his body out with his breath. It was late, extremely so, he had gotten home around 9 p.m. and now it was two in the morning, according to his watch. He slid off the bed knowing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep even if he tried.

He slid out the door, shutting it softly behind him, and then he walked down the hallway with practiced stealth. Coming to the main room of the clubhouse. He saw his brothers, spread out across the room, each passed out and in the middle of some deed, Husky didn't even want to think about.

He entered the tiny kitchenette, pulling out the ingredients for some early morning coffee and turning the pot on. He leaned against the counter, his back to the coffee as he listened to the liquid drip down into the pot with an oddly comforting sizzle.

"You shouldn't be drinking coffee at two in the morning. Its too damn early for that." Bobby yawned appearing out of the shadows. Husky wondered how long he'd been there, how long he watched, but no that wasn't right he was home now he didn't have to worry about that kind of thing.

"What would you have me drinking? Whiskey?" He nodded toward the full and unopened bottle sitting on the counter.

"Well at least that would put you to sleep, which you obviously need." He replied, eyebrow raised in question, eyes rolling over him, taking him in.

"I don't drink anymore." He replied softly, his mind drifting back to hellish memory he'd care not to remember but had no such hope. Bobby was there in an instant, as though sensing Husky was slipping into a bad place. His motions pulled Husky back to the real world, and he watched quietly as Bobby pulled two mugs out of the cupboard, filling each with coffee. Husky stopped him before he could add anything to his, he wanted his coffee black, no sugar, no milk, he wanted to taste the bitterness.

Bobby looked at him in surprise, first no alcohol and now straight black coffee? That wasn't like Husky at all. The thought caused him to glance at the whiskey bottle again, as though staring at it would somehow suddenly make it reality that Husky had drank some.

"I'm serious." Husky said, reading Bobby's thoughts knowing the older man didn't believe him, when he said he didn't drink. This thought confirmed when Bobby mouthed the word 'bullshit', before heading over to the fridge. He pulled out a basket that was covered with a towel, he then started to walk towards the exit, motioning for Husky to follow.

A few minutes later they were sitting side by side on the picnic table, Bobby staring at his muffin as though trying to dissect it, and Husky looking up at the stars, taking absent-minded bites.

"I forgot how much I missed your muffins, Bobby. How good they were." He really meant it too; Bobby was one of the best bakers Husky had ever met.

"Are." Bobby said pointedly, continuing when Husky arched his eyebrow, his face contorting in pain for a moment as the slight facial movement had sent a sharp dagger of pain through the gash on his forehead. Bobby didn't mention this though. "Are. Are good, they are still the best damn muffins around, they didn't get any worse only better. And I'm willing to bet they're better than any shit you been eating recently over there in Afghan."

Husky had to chuckle at that, everything he ate in the field had tasted exactly the same, horrible, like sand. Bobby's muffins were like God walking on earth for him right now.

"So what happened?" Bobby asked. Husky new he was asking about the bandages around his abdomen, normally Husky wouldn't say anything, not wanting to drag anyone else into that nightmare world. But something about Bobby always had home telling the truth he could never hide from, or lie to the man.

"IED." He muttered with a matter of fact voice like it was no big deal. This bothered Bobby, combined with the cold, dead, distant look of Husky's eyes, it left him shuddering. This boy shouldn't have a look like that, so emotionless, so lifeless, like he was already dead. He was too young to be like that. "It was about a week or two ago, I don't really remember, details are fuzzy. We were running, my platoon and I, at least what was left of us. Six men in only two and half coming out. We were running reconnaissance, things went bad real quick, sad to say my brother Ethan had been shot at least four times, little bastard was still alive though, I carried him out on my back, my buddy Matt backing us up. We ran as far and as fast as we could. And when we finally took a break, we realized we needed food or water anything otherwise we weren't gonna live. Matt went out only a few feet, I remember he had a goofy grin on his face as he picked up a coke can. Said something along the lines of 'Middle of a fucking desert and the bastards still need good ol' American soda' we both chuckled, but that's when I heard it. That unmistakable click. Matt looked at me horrified, not sure what to do. I couldn't blame him." Husky paused to take a breath, he was shaking slightly and Bobby had to put a hand on his shoulder to make sure he stayed anchored to this world.

"I couldn't blame him one bit, because he had a damn brain in his head. He knew that it was an IED right below his feet and he was smart enough to know not to move. I however wasn't. I don't know what happened next I just remember, Matt laying on the ground a yard or two away, a stunned look on his face. And me laying flat, and facedown over that IED hoping that I was enough to stop the blast from reaching my buddies. Then it was dark, and there was nothing, nothing but cold. Just cold."

Both were silent for a long while, the minutes dragged by and Bobby swore he could see the entire scene playing across Husky's eyes, the same thing over and over again. A not so subtle cough brought him back to the living world, and he continued with his tale. "I woke up a couple days later, both Matt and Ethan were okay and alive, and I was damn lucky. In my act of _bravery,_" he spat the word with such disdain and Bobby couldn't understand why. He thrown himself on an explosive device to save his men, if that wasn't bravery then what the hell was? "I managed to not even cover the entire IED, rather I was kinda next to it. My body still shielded the others, but I absorbed the full impact of the blast and about half the shrapnel. I was lucky though, because my entire left side should have been blown off but it wasn't because the IED wasn't packed with as much explosive power as it should have, a fluke on the enemy's part I guess." He finished a wide, hideous smile spreading across his face. As though something about his story was hilarious, the humor was lost on Bobby however, and he didn't like how Husky slipped back into his memories again. This man was so detached, Bobby couldn't help but feel he was talking to nothing more than an empty shell.

"We were all proud you know, it took a minute to seep in but we were proud. Even Gemma, she couldn't stop bragging about her boy, hell none of us could! We were so damn proud that you chose to go over there, to be a hero in that land of death." Bobby finally said. This statement did nothing but shock Husky, _proud? How could they be proud? He didn't join the Marines because he wanted to fight for his country, at least not entirely. He was running away, and that seemed to be the only way to do it. To leave and hopefully die, so that he never would have to come back. That was nothing to be proud of….that was just cowardice. _

"We didn't understand…why you left. Not at first anyway, not with you just having finished your prospect year, but we got it eventually. You didn't run away Husk." Husky couldn't help but be taken aback, it was like Bobby knew what was going on in his head, and he couldn't help but be pissed of by that. He turned away from Bobby, not able to look at him. "Hey! Logan!" Bobby grabbed his arm, jerking him, making him turn around. "You didn't run. You can think that all you want, but people don't run away to a goddamn war! They don't run towards something that's worse. I get it, you didn't want this life, and you had already been to hell and back, and you shouldn't have to do it again for us. But you never ran, you did something you had to do, you weren't running from us, and you may have thought you were running from yourself, but in truth, you were running to find yourself."

He let go of Husky's arm, but held his gaze, kept their eyes locked knowing the boy couldn't look away then. "And all that didn't matter, the minute you stepped onto that battlefield, because then its not about what you were, or what you were doing before you stepped on foreign soil. No the second your there in the middle of it? That's when it becomes about who you are and who your friends are, and more importantly it becomes about protecting your brothers and staying alive." Bobby stared into his eyes still, he could see confusion washing over them, fear as well, but also a glint, just a small spark of hope. Like he wasn't quite gone yet, and Bobby's little speech had helped to bring him back.

Accomplishing his mission, Bobby stood, he gave Husky a firm shake of the shoulder before walking back to the clubhouse, leaving Husky alone under the stars. But he knew the kid would be fine, and right now, it was time he got some damn sleep!

_**So that was chapter 2! Let me know what you guys think.**_

_**Reviews would be loved, hope all who read are enjoying this. I thank all those who favorite or followed me or this story, Thanks! **_

_**Chapter 3 is already done, not sure when it will be posted but it won't be long promise! I just have to work out a few kinks.**_

_**KHoltzman13 at gmail . com**_

_**Reviews would be loved thanks!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING IN THIS FANFIC BELONGS TO KURT SUTTER AND ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH SONS OF ANARCHY! HUSKY IS MY OC AND ONLY HE AND THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE BELONGS TO ME. EVERYTHING ELSE-CHARACTERS AND IDEA IS KURT'S THE MASTER! **_

_**PLEASE DON'T SUE ME, I LOVE YOU KURT SERIOUSLY-DON'T SUE...I would love to own SoA though-Imagine all those hot guys ;)**_

_**A/N: Okay guys so author's note at the end of chapter 4. Yeah that's right two chapters going up today! But I'll admit not so sure on this chapter, really let me know what you think! Even you guest users! I want all opinions!**_

**Chapter 3: Talks at Home Part 2**

A rough shake of his shoulder brought him out of his, at best, fitful sleep. He squinted against the sun to see Gemma standing above him, hands on hips and a look of pure amusement on her face.

"You like sleeping out here?"

"Wha-?" He said his voice still thick with weariness, and sleep-slurred. She moved to the side so she wasn't hovering directly over him, and so he could see what was in front of him. He was in the parking lot, still on the picnic table, facing the garage where the day had already started and the mechanics were swarming around the cars coming in. "Oh." He said, sitting up stiffly. He must have fallen asleep after his talk with Bobby, he wasn't sure how though, as the table was definitely lacking in comfort.

He stood up swaying slightly, body aching al over, Gemma's hand on his arm to steady him. "You still look like shit." She said deadpan. He scoffed, thinking it to be the understatement of the year, what little sleep he had last night was the most he's had in weeks. "I got some office stuff to do but give me half an hour and I'll take you home, you can get some sleep on an actual mattress, in the mean time you can find Chibs. Have that face of yours stitched up." She said poking a finger at the gash on his head. She then pulled back, crossed her arms, and hitched up an eyebrow, when he winced. She was daring him to argue, to say that he was fine. He wasn't stupid though nor did he have a death wish, you never argue with Gemma. Plus he couldn't help but agree with her.

"Heh, alright." he replied, a small grin on his face. Not even a full 24 hours here, and Gemma was already back to delegating every little part of his life.

He couldn't understand why Jax never got this king of treatment; _he_ washer biological son after all!

Gemma looked at her son with a quiet, soft, love as he sauntered off to look for Chibs. She was happy no she was elated! She'd thought she lost Husky ten years ago, and then he came back, and though he seemed dead and lifeless, Gemma could tell there was still a small part of him that was human. She just needed to reach out and grab it, and slowly work to bring her boy back to the happy life he left.

"Hey!" she called after him, before he got too far. He turned around; easily catching the shirt she just threw despite his soreness. "Cover that up," she grinned, gesturing to his chest. "I can't have a bunch of girls showing up at my door looking for you!" Humorous as it was, the statement was all too true. Once word got around that Husky was back in Charming? Well easy to say Gemma was going to have to beat the girls back with a bat. Husky just winked, in that boyish way of his he showed so very little and disappeared into the garage.

It was good that he was back, but Gemma couldn't help but shake the feeling that shit was about to hit the fan. That somehow Husky's return was a bad omen.

Husky pulled on the black t-shirt Gemma gave him. He recognized it as an old one of his. It was kinda tight a bit too small for him as it clung to his body uncomfortably, showing the movement of every little muscle as he moved, apparently he'd have to go shopping soon.

The Reaper was on the front reading Sons of Anarchy under it and on the back were the words Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair and its logo.

Husky couldn't help but think that Gemma was already trying to get him back to work in the garage, even when it's personal its all business with that woman.

He found Chibs apparently waiting for him in a corner in the back of the garage. He was currently watching Tig work on a Harley Fat Boy a couple yards away. His deep brown eyes took in every mood he made, like he was trying to commit everything the other mechanic did to memory. Husky had to admit the action reminded him of himself, the way he learned to watch people and his surroundings after joining the Marines. He guessed that was something every soldier learned to do and never forgot, Tig still did it and apparently so did Chibs, even though he only spent a short time in the Queen's

Army.

Chibs noted his approach, slowly sliding his eyes off Tig and then onto Husky, analyzing his every move. Taking in his injuries from what he could see, assessing how much work he had to do. Gemma had said it was bad, but Chibs didn't think so. Shrapnel wounds obviously had to be light, if he had been back up on his feet so soon from what Bobby said. The gash on his forehead was deep and probably would scar, but other than that he seemed fine at least physically. Chibs had watched him with Gemma earlier, he had smiled and laughed but the actions of his body didn't reflect what Chibs saw in his eyes. _Eyes are the windows to the soul,_ that statement was all too true.

In both eyes, it was like a raging storm, so dark that you could barely tell there was a difference in color. And that raging storm was never ending, it was a mix of emotions of rage, despair, sadness and depression, and Chibs wasn't sure which one would win out.

Chibs stood when Husky got close enough, putting an arm around his neck and dragging him into a headlock and giving him a noogie. Dragging him through the closest door and into the clubhouse, not letting up for a second.

Husky didn't complain the entire time, just playfully tore at Chibs' arms and elbowed him in the stomach. He should have expected this, the Scot always did this when he was growing up, and why would he stop now? Surprisingly, even though Husky wasn't really trying, he couldn't get out of the headlock. Chibs was a helluva lot stronger than he looked, and he even though Husky was younger than him and supposedly in better shape he could do nothing to get Chibs off him when the Scot started to tighten his hold so much so he had begun to choke Husky.

Again this was something Husky should have expected, Chibs was a hard person to anger, but Husky had succeeded in that very easily, he had expected Chibs to lash out at him the minute he showed up in the clubhouse. But the years apart must have turned his fiery anger into a quiet rage, and now rather than just beating him to a pulp he was going to put him through agonizing torture, the painful noogie was just the beginning.

He'd already had his air supply cut off for minutes, and his vision was already filled with black spots threatening to take over, before he even began to appeal to Chibs.

"P-please…Ch-Chibs…" He was gasping now, barely trying to stay in control, delay the panic that wanted to burst through his chest, but Chibs wasn't letting up. Husky tried to look into his eyes to see what was there, if it was anger, despair, or hatred propelling his actions, but he couldn't turn his head, couldn't move. "Ughhh, Fi-filip…..Filip…"

The use if his real name must have snapped him out of whatever emotion-filled haze he was in, for his death grip immediately loosened and became a grip that held, and supported Husky so he didn't collapse to the floor. He helped Husky into a chair, and dashed over to the bar, coming back with his med-kit and a glass of water. Husky didn't take the water though, just set it on the table beside him. He had a grin on his face, one bordering on psychopathic almost, and it made Chibs shudder. "Gosh, I'm so sorry boy-o; I don't know what came over me."

Husky just laughed a hollow, low sound that echoed off the walls eerily. "No you're not." He said breathlessly, regaining his composure with ease, and the manic grin slipping off his face to make way for a small, fake smile meant to be comforting, but lacking all warmth.

Chibs looked at him a little shocked, it's not like he wanted to choke the boy to death! "Oh come on Chibs don't pretend. Gemma slapped, Bobby yelled, and you choked me. I expected to get payback from everyone. It's rightly deserved. I'll admit I wasn't expecting it to take so long, I thought you all would jump me the minute I walked in."

"Well we were thinking about it." Chibs replied going for levity and immediately regretting it when he saw that Husky thought him to be serious. He was going to take it back, to say that he was joking, but not only would that make him look stupid, but he also highly doubted that the kid would believe him. "I really didn't mean it you know." He said instead, opening his med-kit and pulling out some antiseptic wipes and a needle.

Husky shuddered a bit at the sight, he was not comfortable around medical…._things _to put it lightly, but the objects being in the hands of Chibs helped him to relax if only a little. "It doesn't matter Chibs, not really. I'm just glad you didn't beat the hell out of me. I know you're all a little more than just mad, and being the people we are I expected that anger to be dealt with in some way that involved my bodily harm. I just don't think I could handle it if everyone decided to beat the hell out of me, I don't even think I'd be alive."

"Yeah well, yeh know Tiggy didn't take your leaving well either. I'm not sure what he's more pissed at, the fact that yeh joined the Marines or the fact that yeh left." He put down the wipes and began to thread the needle; he then held it in front of the wound, glancing down at Husky, his look saying, _you ready? I'm about to stick a needle in your freaking head so I goddamn hope so. _"Don't move eh?" He whispered as he set his hands to work.

The initial feeling of steel going through his skin wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He had experience with people sticking needles into him, some friends, and some enemies. But all of them had been excruciating, apparently it just goes to show how much it pays to have a trained medic stitching you up and not some guy who's highlight in life is watching the yearly super bowl surrounded by beer, god harsh memories.

"So you think I should stay away from Tig then?" Husky asked an amused smile coming across his face as he tried to imagine how mad Tig was, the way Chibs described it Tig was more angry then Chibs had ever seen him, and Chibs had seen a lot.

"At least until yeh make it right with the rest of us. Everyone's mad or upset or somethin', they're all gonna want yeh teh fix it. And then yeh can go confront Tigger, I have a feelin' you might be laid up for a few weeks after that." He kept his eyes on his work the entire time, taking extra care to do the job slow and right. Husky couldn't but smile at how childlike Chibs looked when he was concentrating, eyes full of passion as they always were when he did something, and his tongue sticking out just a bit through his teeth clamped together.

"Well, sounds fun." He sighed, scrunching his face a bit as the needle brushed against the open, red layer of tender skin. Chibs glanced down in apology, but quickly went back to

his work, speeding up a bit now that they had finished talking.

Husky watched as Chibs tied off the threads than began to sterilize his equipment. He was silently thankful for that. Chibs stitched up everyone in the club, when the injuries were minor enough, Husky had no desire for a needle to pierce his skin that had been through the skin of his brothers. He had no idea where they had been!

Chibs then handed him a mirror to assess the damage. The stitches were large, giant black X's going with the curve of his hairline, a new fashion statement. "It'll scar, but considering the rest of your face I don't think you'll mind. Plus you can always grow your hair out and cover it up." Chibs said his eyes intently fixed on the light but easily visible scars on the left side of his face. They were from a brutal battle, years ago a fight in an abandoned home where all guns and knives had been thrown aside in some manner, and the use of things like pitchforks became your lifeline. That's what made these scars on his face, a damn pitchfork dragged down his face once or twice. Not all the slices from it had scarred but the worst ones had the ones that started well on top of his head and came down one ending at his eye the other continuing over his top lip and the third curving back toward his ear. Lucky for him the scars did nothing but improve his good looks according to the nurse who had tended him. However, he couldn't help but feel disfigured, messed up, like they were not only making him ugly on the outside but they represented the ugliness that had scarred his soul and taken him over from the inside out

"Can you do that?" Chibs voice brought him out of his thoughts, he looked up at the Scot confused, and he obviously missed something. "Can you do that?" he asked again, Husky didn't reply, Chibs knowing that Husky wasn't even listening decided to go for a more to the point' approach. "Shirt. Off. Now." Husky didn't argue, Chibs obviously had things he wanted to get to.

He hissed as Chibs took off the bandages none to gently, not bothering to care about the fact he was ripping someone's skin off. "So what's the word on my cut?" The question made Chibs sigh, obviously he'd been expecting this. "Well?" he said annoyed.

"Yeah about that."

"What?"

"Well first off Gemma has it." He saw Husky's face fall at that. It was gone be a long while before he got that back if Gemma had it. Yeah, she was all about the club. Yeah she'd want him back into club business as soon as possible. But the 'as soon as possible part' was really just whenever she felt he was perfectly healthy and nothing was wrong which was a different idea of when he himself thought to be different.

The notion angered him, it honestly pissed him off, and why did she have the cut anyway? It was club property, Gemma generally gets what she wants buts ridiculous. Proving he was really back to the club was on thing, proving to Gemma? That was another thing entirely.

"Yeh okay brother?" Chibs asked cleaning up his tools.

"Fine." He said harshly before standing and leaving Chibs alone at the bar.

"Well someone is a little pissy today….." Chibs muttered.

Finding Gemma was easy; she was hidden away at her desk, surrounded by stacks of paper. But it was the car ride to her and Clay's house that was hard. Complete silence in the car, Gemma had tried talking, making small talk but it was obvious to her by the forth grunt of acknowledgment she gave up on having the one-sided thing.

He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. He was the one who left, 2 years into the club and he had dropped it all and left. That didn't mean none of it meant anything it him, it just would've been too hard to bring it along and have it remind him of everything he'd given up.

Letting him off in the driveway, giving him a key, and telling him to take what was in a fridge Gemma went back to work. Just then a though occurred to Husky, he need his own ride. His motorcycle was gone, wrecked that a couple weeks before he left, never even got it fixed. Maybe this time he can restore a chopper-that'd be nice.

He passed right by the kitchen and headed straight to the guest room, he wanted to sleep, badly. He locked the door behind him and came face to face with something he'd never thought he'd see.

The guest room was like a freaking shrine or something, his cut, framed, and hung on the opposite wall, the letters he had written home piled on the desk, pictures of him on the dresser and a few on the wall. Pictures of long ago, some from his childhood, others with SAMCRO and even the few he sent from Afghanistan. He had to admit, this, was slightly creepy.

Taking all the pictures off the wall, he stuffed them in a drawer with the letters, he couldn't look at them. As for his cut, he left it hanging. Now that he knew where it was it'd be easy to find when he got up.

He flopped down on his stomach onto the bed, he immediately sunk in, Gemma's wasn't lying this was the best damn bed he'd been on in years. He drifted into sleep his brain focusing on the memory of the day he left…..

_**Reviews are appreciated and welcomed. I need to know what you guys think. Please be as detailed as possible!**_

_**Stay Frosty.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING IN THIS FANFIC BELONGS TO KURT SUTTER AND ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH SONS OF ANARCHY! HUSKY IS MY OC AND ONLY HE AND THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE BELONGS TO ME. EVERYTHING ELSE-CHARACTERS AND IDEA IS KURT'S THE MASTER! **_

_**PLEASE DON'T SUE ME, I LOVE YOU KURT SERIOUSLY-DON'T SUE...I would love to own SoA though-Imagine all those hot guys ;)**_

_**A/N: Alright here's chapter 4!**_

**Chapter 4: Memories of Home**

_10 years ago…_

Laughing, joking and carrying on were all that could be heard. He and the rest of the boys had just come back from a run. He was trying to break out of Chibs headlock while taking punches to the stomach from Tig. Everyone else was laughing and making inappropriate comments, typical hazing for the new guy who for once didn't screw up on a real run.

All that ended when they came through the door and came face to face with Gemma. She was stark white, clutching a piece of paper and staring at it like she was trying to memorize every little word, letter, grain of ink. She was shaking slightly and Otto Delaney, the VP, shot him a warning glance. One that didn't sink in until Gemma was already on him with questions and angry words. She had gotten the letter…

"You got the letter." He said dismally, not really sure what to do or expect. There were only three people in the room who knew what was going on, and quite frankly he rather keep it that way, it'd be hell if the others found out and he was still within a mile radius.

"You're damn right I got the fucking letter!" she took a step forward and everyone but him immediately took a step back leaving him alone to face Gemma, _thanks for the support guys. _"What the hell is this anyway? When did this even happen? I don't remember you ever talking or mentioning it! And damn whatever happened to the mother-son talks!"

"Well you always said you hated those…" oh talk about throwing oil onto the frying pan.

Gemma's eyes just blazed but she easily switched over into bitch mode. Outrage over, prepare for kill mode, might as well start playing _Taps _right now.

"Baby what are you talking about?" Clay stepped away from the group and came around to stand behind Gemma, his hand on her shoulder in more of a restraining way then anything. His eyes studied the paper in front of them. I could see his eyes widen, probably when they passed over the seal, then they narrowed in anger again, he probably just read the line 'report for duty'. Make that four people. "What is this son?"

"Well I'm guessing it's a letter from the Corps…..saying I'm fit for duty." That's when he heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him, he knew that was Tig. And there's the fifth.

"WHAT!? You joined the damn Marines!?" Tig yanked his shoulder spinning him around to shove his face into Husky's own. He wasn't sure who he should be weary of now, Tig or Gemma, maybe they'd be willing to eat him together, to share. Yeah fat chance of that-he was gonna get it from both.

Tig's remark was all that was needed to clue the others into what was going on, remarks of question and quizzical faces instantly littered the group. "Yeah he did." Gemma said softly not really as an answer just as a sentence that said 'I'm gonna kick your ass'. He sighed heavily, well might as well try to explain.

"I was going to tell you, I really was. I just wanted to wait till the right time.'

"There is no right time for this kinda news kid." Bobby muttered. I shot him a glare, _so not helping!_

"Says here you've been in some program since you were 16, two freaking years! Two years and you never said anything." Gemma hissed.

"You were planning to do this?" Husky heard Chibs ask from behind, he ignored him though-one person at a time.

"Mom, look I was going to tell you, I swear. You weren't supposed to find out this way." I glared at Otto, he just nodded excepting the fact he screwed up. "But look, it's got nothing to do with you; I just need to do something."

"Then read a freaking book! If you need to 'do something' go cook or buy a car, or draw a picture! I don't care! But this? This is not doing something! This is like changing your life!"

"I know, but look it was a decision I made in absolute clarity, and I don't regret it not one bit. I need to get away."

"Get away from what? Your family? Your brothers? Friends? Home? All to go get killed in some godforsaken place!" She had raised her voice, and Husky wouldn't be surprised if you could hear it out in the garage. "I didn't take you in to betray us!" Oh low blow, what little patience and restraint Husky had just when out the window.

"Oh and what the hell is that suppose to mean!? I bled for this club! I killed! I did everything damn thing you ever asked me since the very beginning! I did everything even before I was in the club, every dirty little deed, all of it! And now you're gonna say I betrayed you! I made a choice!"

"What kind of choice is this? To just leave! And not even have a damn reason!"

"You haven't even let me give you a reason Gemma!"

"Fine then. What? What is it? Right now spit it out." That shut him up, her voice was cold, harsh, and that look was a knife twisting in his gut.

"I don't think I can do this." Husky replied softly. His mind flashing back to a scene in his memory he'd been trying to erase, a reason. A dead kid laying a street, pool of blood beneath him, a freaking kid younger than himself, the one thing that had pushed him over the edge. He had thrown himself into SAMCRO after that, but it had done nothing to dull the pain, to stop the nightmares. He saw that kid every fucking day like a ghost, haunting him, mocking him, hating him. He couldn't deal with it anymore; he thought maybe, just maybe if he got out of Charming, he'd be left alone. Problem was he was SAMCRO, you couldn't get away from them. Nowhere in the country would have been far enough away. So he settled for outside that country, the Marine Corps providing the best escape. Be the frontline, get away, and be surrounded by too many things to remember home. And maybe, even get lucky enough to die for his country so he didn't have to come home and face his ghost all over again.

"Do what? What are you running from?" Bobby asked. The whole room was quiet, waiting to see what would happen. The silence was shattered though, when a door slammed and Tig was on the other side of it, his motorcycle fading into the distance. Tig knew everything, apparently he didn't want to hear anymore. Husky just kept his eyes on Gemma, his brothers wouldn't understand, not really. They've all spilt blood, but this was a mistake. One he made at 16, one he supposedly made for the club. One that destroyed a young life, a 10-year-old life.

"I can't do it. I can't sleep without the nightmares, so I don't sleep. I can't eat without thinking he's the one who should be eating, so I don't. I can't even walk down the street without seeing him. I'm sick of having to see his face every time I look at someone, when I look at all of you. I see him in the shadows, I see him in the mirror. I can't do that anymore. I need to get away from Charming, if just for a while. I need to get away."

"Then you can transfer to another charter, you don't have to stay here." Her voice was softer.

"No you don't understand, I can't stay with the club. I can't do-I can't have this life! Not if I can't handle it. If I'm gonna lose my head every time some innocent gets hurt, this won't work! Not for me, and not for the club. I need a break; I need to get my head on straight I need to…..atone. I'm being pathetic, I get it but I need to do something!"

"Then why do you have to leave! Why can't you just go take a vacation? Why the hell couldn't you tell me! Two years! What-"

"This is why! You're not listening, you don't understand!" he turned on his heels intent on walking out. No one stood in his way. He had no idea where he was going, his bike was twisted heap of metal, so guess it was the car. Luckily he had the keys. But he didn't; get far before Clay was behind him, his fist smashing into Husky's jaw, head smacking the pavement and world spinning.

"We're not done here." Husky stared up at him stunned, until he grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging him to his feet. "You don't get to lie to your mother, to me and just leave."

"What the hell you want me to say, _dad?_" he spat, spitting out blood that started to fill his mouth.

"I don't want you to say anything/ I want you to get your head on straight! You're smarter this! You need to explain!"

"I just did!" He screamed shoving Clay away from him. "What don't you understand!? I didn't just kill someone. I killed a kid! A _fucking ten-year old! _A straight-A student who had a future, who had friends! Someone the whole town cared about! And I killed him! A mother's baby, a father's only son, that's not something you just get over!"

"We've all killed boy, you're not special!" Clay said threateningly, taking a step forward.

"No, you've all killed for the club. You didn't just go out and murder some innocent! And at the very least, whoever you may have accidentally killed was always connected to something illegal so it's not like the death wasn't deserved." Jabbing his finger into Clay's chest he spun on his heel again, intent on getting out of here.

And once again he was stopped.

A big beefy hand laid on his right shoulder one instant but was gone for the very next when Husky turned, using the momentum from his turn and putting it into his punch. Every ounce of power he could muster went into those two punches. He was taught to never hit only once in a fight, it was reflex-always follow through. His left fist came in as a hook, catching Clay on the right of his face, smashing right into the area between the jaw and cheek bones. His right fist came in as a straight jab to his face, barely a second had passed between the two hits and Clay would've went down on the first hit, adding another only confirmed that he would go down, and stay down. Maybe even out cold.

Husky didn't hang around to find out though. He shrugged his cut off throwing it down on top of Clay. He briefly locked gazes with his brothers, all looking on in complete and utter shock, then his mother. Her brow was furrowed in worry, the few lines on her face hard, hazel eyes cold and angry. Then he came to Otto, the man was unreadable, calm. Husky felt the urge to punch him too but the few seconds he spent standing here already, was time wasted, he needed to leave.

So he did.

He walked out the garage space turning right to round the corner to be totally blocked from site, and once he did he ran. Let his feet pick up the pace to his top speed, and just ran.

He didn't stop till he was blocks away, maybe even a mile. He turned into an alley and fell against a wall, sliding down to the ground. Breath coming in quick gasps, his chest tight and burning, ears straining for the sound of motorcycles.

_Well, that didn't go as planned._ He just signed his death warrant, or at the very least terminated his membership of the club. Whatever small hope he had about returning to his home after his service was gone. He just punched the president, _the prez! _Not only that, but even worse he threw his cut on the ground! They'd torture him just for that!

He got what he wanted though. He was out. Gone. Free. Now he just had to get to wherever he was suppose to go, he should've grabbed the letter before he left. Well Plan B then.

He fished the small 4"x3" stark white card from his pants, smoothing the crinkles with his fingers. The eagle, globe, and anchor shown brightly in gold on the front with small text lining it. He flipped it over to the back, removing his phone as well, dialing in the hand-scrawled number. It was a few minutes before someone on the other end answered.

"Yeah, I need a ride."

"_Shit. I'll be there in ten minutes, Teller-Morrow right?"_

"Nah, you pick the place."

"_Creamery. Mile out of charming, lays next to the Oswald land."_

"Yeah I know the place."

"_Logan what the hell is going on?"_

"Fill you in when I see ya. Make it five alright." He snapped the phone shut before he could get an answer, threw it on the ground, smashing it under his boot for good measure. Then he pulled his hood over his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, ducked down and made his way to the creamery.

_**So two chapters went up today because I felt bad about not posting anything for so long. I was having major technology problems and then I'll admit I've been kinda down and in a slump. It seems Shitstorm Fuck decided to hit me and most my friends this past month and it's just been constant drama. No worries though I have continued to write. I honestly have at least 3 stories that will be going up at some point in time. So even though it might take awhile for Chapter 5 of The Road Not Taken to go up I intend to have some other stories to keep you busy.**_

_**And yes it's no longer Coming Home-I changed the title.**_

_**I must say though if you haven't seen the new season of SOA, get your ass in gear! It is intense, and though it does not really affect my story in anyway, I'd be lying to say I haven't been influenced by the recent episodes. So no spoilers but seriously Sutter is going all out guys. And though the show has left me in an emotional hell, it is damn good and well worth watching. And please don't be stupid, if you haven't been keeping up with the show don't ruin it for yourself my trolling around on the internet, beware of what you read and stay away from spoilers!**_

_**Reviews are appreciated, welcomed, and honestly needed. I want to know what you guys think. So clue me in. Any questions about the story or requests for future happenings are welcomed as well, leave in a review or PM me.**_

_**Again my email- KHoltzman13 at gmail . com **_

_**Stay Frosty.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: So maybe I lied, no hiatus- maybe. I just thought up this chapter so might as well post while I got the chance.**_

**Chapter 5: Dreams Far From Home**

_**Bleed, kill, heal, bleed, kill, heal.**_

_**Bleed, kill, heal, bleed, kill, heal.**_

_**Bleed, kill, heal, bleed, kill, heal.**_

"_**Retrieving wounded comrades from the field of fire is a Marine Corps tradition more sacred than life."**_

_They played again and again, the motto I created for myself- A broken record. Every now and then the Sarges' words would pop in. **I have to save them**._

_That's all I could think, **I had to. **_

_I looked through scope again, their faces screaming at me in front of it. I counted, only five. **I can do that, I can save them all.** _

_Scanning the tree lines again I squeezed the trigger four more times, two bullets each going into the bastards hiding in the leaves. I was then up on my feet, running, swinging the rifle onto my back and sliding down the hill as fast as possible while still staying on my feet. _

_The boys knew what I was doing, they were making it easy, gathering in a spot close by, behind cover. Securing equipment, setting up a line- most injured first. The first trip was John, it was quick, lucky for me his feet weren't hurt and the enemy had yet to recover Back down the hill again, next was Matt; we'd been through hell together. On the way back that's when the bullets started flying again, I slid into the cover of the rock, hot lead blowing debris over my head. I had to move faster, this was all on me. I either save them or we all die. _

_I took two on the next trip, Emilio and Raza, my foreign brothers who probably wouldn't make it out of this war alive if they kept up the Daredevil antics- but they were brave. Carter followed behind me, providing cover and towards the end, as Matt helped Emilio, Raza and Carter up, I laid down the covering fire myself. My head told me to move just an inch to the nearby rock, it was a small wouldn't do much for me but it was better than the open. But I didn't move, my feet wouldn't move. _

_The breeze that hit my shoulder was freezing, a painful clash with the burning metal ripping through my uniform. I fell back with a yell, bullets raining down on my head, then I could feel them lessen as I skidded down the hill, literally having been swept off my feet. Everything was slowed down, like some kinda Matirx battle scene and I was supposed to be Neo, dodging all the bullets. There were shots from both sides now, my men trying to cover my course back up, but I couldn't move. The bullet had numbed my upper body, it might have torn through to my spine, I didn't know but it came in at an angle that would make that possible. I glanced up, the dirt-caked faces of my brothers were screaming at me silently, a begging glint in their eyes. _

_I was pinned though, the telltale sound of a MG smacking against the rock I was pushed against. Stick so much as a toe out and I'd lose my foot. I looked back to the boys, shouted at them screamed, I felt my voice being shrill and pleading but I couldn't hear it, couldn't hear anything but a high pitched whine. My brothers weren't moving. Why were they standing there? They needed to go, at least they would make it out, they were far enough away from the shower of bullets to retreat. If I died so be it. _

_But they just kept urging me on, begging me to come. "Fuck this." I grunted and hoisted myself up. I came at that hill full speed, felt a bullet or two graze me and one hit the helmet but none got through. It made it difficult to stay on my feet and stop sliding on the gravel but I made it halfway up the hill._

_Another bullet smashed into my helmet, knocking it off and I fell forward, the sniper training kicking in as I crawled on forward. My head was pounding, my senses returned full blast, the gush of air exploded behind me and I knew what was coming. _

_The RPG smashed into the hillside, hot debris crashing down on me, a plume of smoke lifting. I covered my face the best I could while still trying to keep my eyes open, tracking the shapes flying through the air- the body parts. There was warm blood running down my face, my body, my skin slicked with it and sticky. The dust cleared and I stood in the opening, my mind screaming at me like a Drill Sergeant again to move, to survive. My instincts were cursing me for even being here, calling me an idiot, saying my friends were dead and I needed to save myself. _

"_MATT! MATT! JOHN!" I just screamed their names, there were no tears, no pain in that moment, just the raw emotion as I cried their names out running towards where they had been, where some of the bodies had flown. Nothing recognizable was even left. "No…..no, damn it. No!" There were guns being loaded behind me, the magazines clicking into place, I fell to my knees. I failed. _

"_**Retrieving wounded comrades from the field of fire is a Marine Corps tradition more sacred than life." **One fucking job and I couldn't even do it right, I just murdered my whole team! The bullets tore apart my very being, scalding briefly before making me swiss cheese, the shouts of "No" became moans as I fell to the ground. Nothing but guttural moans coming from my raw throat, the enemies surrounded me, I could see them from above, some kinda of out of body experience, they were shouting in their own language, kicking my dying form. I didn't know what they were saying but the words that reached my ears were clear "Your fault. You killed them." _

"_I didn't mean to, it was them! This stupid war!"_

"_It's your job to bring them home safe you failed."_

"_I tried to, I really did-"_

"_No! You knew not to run in there like a hero, but you did. Your stupid pride got them all killed!"_

"_No….no…."_

_The pain that reached me filled me stomped out whatever protest I had. The pain that erupted was indescribable. It was cold, but hot like freezer burn, a stabbing that turned to slicing over every inch of skin, my cries cut into the very flesh of my throat as the world turned black. The grim reaper loomed over me, chastising me for everything- The war, that kid, the club, my family, things that wouldn't have happened had I made the right decision. So many deaths…my fault._

_There was a distant smashing, like wood splintering, and hands clawing at him the nails ripping flesh in jagged crimson lines. _

"Logan ! Logan!"

_They knew my name._

"_LOGAN!" _

**_A/N: So yeah, let me know what you thnk this chapter is little...meh? I don't know it felt awkward so let's just see what you guys say._**

**_Reviews please they make me grin like an idiot- even the mean ones. :)_**

**_Stay Frosty._**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: I don't have a lot to say- shocker, I know.**_

**Warnings: People are being manipulative bugger in this chapter**

**Chapter : The Deal at Home**

Husky choked back a sob, his heart racing, threatening to beat out of his chest. He was soaked in sweat, on the floor of the guest room, shaking uncontrollably. His pale, colorless eyes looked at Gemma, she was right in his face, talking to him, her lips moving but he couldn't hear anything. She looked scared and he wondered why, it was just a dream right? He was fine. He just had to calm down. The door was lying on the carpet a few feet away, busted right off the hinges. _Shit, did I do that? _Now he was confused. Clay was there too hanging at Gemma's right some kinda of watchful guardian.

"Logan. Baby are you alright? Logan answer me. Hey come on!" Her fingers snapped in his face, and he shrunk away from the noise. His mind was slow, the pieces of a puzzle laying in front of him but he couldn't put the picture together.

"Gem, babe, back up a bit, Give him some room to breathe." Clays hand pulled at Gemma's and she finally moved away, then Clay was in front of and the pieces finally fit.

"Shit."

"Shit is right. You alright son?"

"Yeah fine I just," Husky let out a shaky breath, though he was now sure it was just a dream the feelings of guilt were all too real. "A dream, just a dream."

"You sure about that?" Clay's pale blue-grey eyes looked at him with concern but there was hint of something else, scrutiny it seemed like. "Seemed more like a fucking bad nightmare." Husky just nodded leaning against the wall, he was freezing as Gemma wrapped a blanket around him. He nodded towards the door.

"You couldn't just unlock it?"

Clay gave a thin smile, "You're mom was worried, didn't have time to find the key. Threatened to cut my balls off if I didn't get the door open, and you know your mother, she wasn't bluffing."

Husky hung his head, hiding the ghost of a smile on his face; the thought of Gemma castrating Clay was all too funny yet disturbing.

"Are you alright? You want some coffee?"

"Yeah, uh tea actually." Gemma nodded and walked by the broken door, her scornful eyes glancing at it then Clay with nothing but accusations. He shrugged hopelessly in return.

"I'll have the prospects fix it." Gemma just brushed off the comment and headed towards the kitchen, Clay turned back to Husky grey-blue eyes all business. "What's on your mind? Don't bullshit me. I can see the wheels turning."

"I want back in." Husky replied, his voice cold, eyes as dark as Clay's as he stared at the older man with the same harshness.

"Ha, you sure about that?" A mocking tone graced his bark of a laugh. " You're the one who chickened out."

Husky suppressed the growl in his throat, it wasn't the best way to go about negotiations. "I know. And it's cliché, but I was young. It's different now, I've seen a lot, too much almost. Where else am I gonna go? I don't have any skills to get a job, I can work the garage, but it be a stupid bet if you think I'm just gonna sit tight and mind my own business when things get rough. I'll be involved, wanted or not, and you damn well know I will find out whatever I need to, the guys know me, they like me, they won't hesitate to spill if I push them enough. Chibs and Tig especially, even Bobby, they're on my side old man."

"'Old man'? Insults and threats to spy? You really think that's gonna get you anywhere?"

"Not a threat, just facts. I wimped out, I know. But I want in, _let_ me in. You see the cut on the wall," Husky nodded toward the frame leather, though Clay's studious eyes never left his face. "I can take it whenever I want, but I'm not. I'm asking _you_, the Prez I punched in the face all those years ago. I'm asking for forgiveness, but begging you to let me back in."

"This is you begging huh? No knees or anything?"

"I'm sitting on my ass, that's as close as you're gonna get. But what's the deal Clay, why so hesitant?"

Clay sighed and fell back to the edge of the bed, running a hand down his face, he seemed overly stressed and Husky had to wonder why, this wasn't supposed to be so hard. "You know, back when Thomas went under, Gemma was a wreck. Losing J.T. didn't help any, your mom is strong, and she'll show that in front of everyone. There were nights though, she cried, cried herself until her throat was raw and she was passed out from the exhaustion of it. It's a fucked up sound, Gemma- crying. It ain't…..natural." Clay stood and started pacing the room, and Husky just watched; confused as to where this was going. Anyway, that day she brought you home, I dunno she was different, you were a ragged mess, but she was attached to you- like that" He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

"It was like you helped her get over it all, something I never could do completely. And J.T. was in Ireland that whole time you know, and I helped out, with you and Jax best I could. But Jax- he's the spiting image of his dad, the way he thinks to, I sometimes forget it's Jax and J.T., and I love Jax I really do, he's like a son. But I have to admit, when you showed up I was a lot happier. Sure, you ain't ours by blood, but you're as much my kid as a blood relative. That's something Jax will never be. I thought it be interesting, see which of you got the crown next, sat at the head of the table. Then you left, and it all crashed down. I didn't lose some kid I had been raising for a few years I lost _my son._" Clay let out a long sigh, looking at Husky for the first time since he started this rant. "I get it now, why you left. But facts are facts, as much as I want you back in, you're a liability. How do I know, for sure, you won't run off again? I can't risk you having some emotional breakdown again, and this time running to some cop of shrink."

And back was the distant calculating man that is Clay, gone was that small vulnerable side Husky never knew the man had; It was back to negotiations, business as usual. "You'll need me." Clay cocked an eyebrow as if to say 'Wanna bet?' That, however, is a bet Husky would take. "I saw the Mayans, they're a tad bit out of their stomping ground aren't they? I've only been here about a week, but I've seen the tension in the club. You wanna push some new deals right, playing the game like usual; rolling the dice. But not all the boys are takers are they? I get the club back you get me- and everything that comes with it. I'll do your biding, keep your dirty secrets, you'll get my vote."

"You're kidding right?" Clay was skeptical, but his eyes lit up at the proposition. This could be an advantage, something he'd need if he wanted to handle everything the ideal way.

"Nah, straight up truth. Only two things." Husky almost giggled at how shot down Clay looked, _Well don't lose all hope yet. _"This doesn't go on forever, you have to end it once all is dealt with. Secondly, you tell me everything, I want to know the plans ahead of time. That way if these lies totally fuck us over I can at least feel properly guilty."

"You are a strange one, but smart. Fine, I'll let you back in. You're at Otto's left alright. You get your rank back and everything. Start work tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Husky couldn't help but feel a bit smug over this, it was a troublesome arrangement and he knew it'd probably bite him in the ass somehow but he needed to gain Clay's trust back, so here's a step in the right- probably wrong- direction. " I need to do something anyway, I swear if I have to sit through another minute of family pictures I'm going to stab my eyes out."

"From what I hear you're only on the second album, she's got like 3 more." Chibs laughed as Husky's eyes widened in disbelief, Gemma walking in right on cue.

"You gotta problem with keeping memories?"

"Oh no, not at all. Come on babe, let's leave the boy alone." Clay wrapped an arm around Gemma's waist, pressing a light kiss to her cheek before drifting out the door.

Gemma pushed a mug into Husky's hand after he pulled himself to his feet. "There's more on the stove if you want. You sure you're alright?" Husky almost winced at the way Gemma's eyes were glazed over with concern.

"It was just a dream, I'm fine; more worried for the door actually." He let out a small laugh, Gemma pulling at the hem of the blanket around his shoulders.

"Yeah well, blame a mother for worrying about her crazy son."

"I'm not crazy." _Lie._

"Honey, have you met your family? You can't be sane and still be in this family. It's literally impossible."

"Explains Uncle Tig."

"Yeah, which reminds me, you've been back a week, when are you and Tig gonna stop playing the silent game like two year olds?"

"It's not a game." Husky pouted, a mocking glint in his eye that made Gemma scoff.

"Well figure it out, the guys are waiting for you two to beat the shit out of each other. And I rather not have someone in the hospital as a result,"

"What? So peaceful truce?"

"Air out the dirty laundry, I don't care how you do it."

"I can't do anything if he won't even talk to me, it's been ten years he should have gotten over it." Gemma's eyes flashed and Husky took a step back out of her reach, deftly dodging a swipe of her nails.

"You hurt him, you make it right."

Gemma left Husky a bit shocked, _whatever happened to motherly love? _

_Okay then, I'll just let him kick my ass, _Husky, put the door back in it's frame and shifted so his back was against the wall as he sat on the bed, finishing off his refreshing mint tea.

_**No word for when chapter 7 will be up, I am on winter break so maybe there is hope…**_

_**Reviews are appreciated.**_

_**Stay Frosty.**_


End file.
